Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

No one sat behind the reception desk, but he’d linked Thea’s phone to the front door, and it was only thirty seconds or so before she rounded the corner. Her dark curls were piled on top of her head, as usual, and her face scrubbed clean of makeup. Those freckles slayed him. Her cheeks were bright with color, and her eyes sparkled as she met his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” She frowned, her hand fluttering to her throat, and he noticed her nails were still striped, indicating her emotions were all over the board. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something’s wrong. I don’t want to go. I’ve got things to do here.” Things he enjoyed. He liked hanging around at the inn, deciding which room patrons would get, monitoring the security feed and working on the theme room. “My boss, also known as the dragon lady, gets pissy when I’m not here to do the hard labor.”

She fluffed her hair, actually appearing proud of the new nickname. “Trust me. We’ll be fine without you.”

“Please. I single-handedly run this place.”

She rolled those gorgeous shamrock eyes. “I haven’t seen you lugging a cleaning cart around.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t need a cart. I walk into a room, and the mess hides.”

Now she snorted. “Have you always been this full of yourself?”

“It’s a recent development. Someone thinks I’m the greatest man in the history of ever, and since she’s the smartest person I know, I have to believe her.” He should go. He’d already passed the promised minute, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Not yet.

She rested her elbows on the counter. “Well, that someone is wondering if anyone has called or emailed about the receptionist position.”

“The assistant position.” He pulled at his collar, suddenly uncomfortable. “Haven’t set up any interviews.” The same truth he’d given her the last time she’d asked. A truth she would thank him for. So why the hell did he feel so guilty?

“Dang it. I need help, and I thought there were people in this town who needed a paycheck.”

“You don’t need help. You’ve got me.” He’d gotten only one other call, but he’d told the girl to ring back in three to six weeks. She’d said something about being willing to risk the wrath of the beast, something he hadn’t understood and hadn’t wasted time questioning. Now an idea hit him. “I wonder if someone warned people away.”

Way to shift blame.

“Who would do such a thing?” Her hands fisted and she grated, “Holly?”

“We’ll investigate when I return.” He leaned over the counter and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. One that said Remember me every second I’m gone.

By the time he lifted his head, her features were luminous. He swore. If he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You’ll call me if Jazz corners you again?” he asked her.

She sighed but said, “Yes.”

“All right. You better stay safe,” he said. “And be ready for me when I get back. Because the first thing I’m going to do—is you.”

*

LORD SAVE ME, Dorothea thought, her heart racing as Daniel strode out the door. That man knew how to leave her hungry for more.

She rushed to the door to watch as his truck sped away. When his taillights vanished, she stayed in place, searching the clouds. They were soft, fluffy and white right now, but radar suggested a storm was headed this way, due to arrive tomorrow afternoon; it was supposed to be a doozy, with a high likelihood of hailstorms but only a small chance of tornadoes.

That night, as she lay in bed with the pups, she missed Daniel like crazy. Was he missing her? She wished he would call her. Strawberry Valley had two earthquakes today. Small ones, but two glasses had broken in the kitchen. Shouldn’t he wonder if she had survived?

She already felt as if she loved him more than he loved her—not that he loved her. And that was the problem! She loved while he liked. Their relationship was imbalanced, and her uncertainties were escalating.

In the morning, as she walked the dogs to Style Me Tender, she noticed a greenish hue in the sky. When she returned to the inn, she checked radar. The likelihood of tornadoes had gone up. A lot. As she worked, she continually checked her weather apps and by 10:00 a.m., conditions had worsened. She had an hour, maybe two, before things got superbad.

She returned to her bedroom, worry for Daniel growing. Thankfully, the tornadic activity was localized. Strawberry Valley and the adjacent counties would be endangered while the city would receive only rain and hail.

Next, she checked the safe room in the basement. Bottles of water? Check. A box of flashlights? Check. Blankets, a cordless radio and chairs to sit on? Check, check, check. Jazz and Charity had checked out earlier, leaving their room keys on the counter, and she had only one other guest. There was plenty of space. But not every business in the town square had a safe room, and the owners knew they were welcome here. If everyone showed up, “plenty of” would change to “barely enough,” but she wasn’t going to worry about that. She would rather be uncomfortable for a few hours than know someone was out there, unprotected.

She sent a text to her sister at school—weekend classes to ensure she graduated. Weather’s getting bad. Come home. I’ll call the front office & check you out.

Maybe she was being overly cautious, but her gut was shouting Be prepared.

Holly texted her right back. Okay, yes. Yes, I’ll come home.

How agreeable, she thought with a sneer. Then she sighed. When had she become such a raging witch?

She made the call, as promised, but it went straight to voice mail. Did no one work the front office on Saturday?

She left a message anyway, and a few seconds after she hung up, her phone buzzed. Someone else had just come through the front door. Or exited. She checked the screen and groaned. Jazz, Charity and the rest of their crew were back.

What now? She trudged to the lobby.

“It’s getting worse out there.” Jazz wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Charity and some of the crew would like to stay until the storm passes. If that’s okay.”

“Sure,” she said. “But what about you?”

“I’m a storm chaser. I’ll be filming.”

She looked him over. He was dressed in a shirt and jeans, not really camera ready. But then, he wasn’t going to film himself.

Excitement bloomed, and she said, “I want to go with you.”

“What? No.” He shook his head. “You don’t have the proper training. You could be hurt.”

“I have some training,” she grated. Two semesters worth of book smarts.

“But...” Charity glanced between them, worrying her bottom lip between her too-white teeth. “I was hoping you’d stay here, Dorothea. You can help me. The network will be cutting to me just as much as Jazz.”

“I’m going, and that’s that.” Daniel had suggested she film herself and stream it live, and thanks to Jude, her site was ready to go. What better time to get started? Jazz could do his filming, and she could do her own. “I just need to get my family settled in.”